


Heart in the Pipes

by RaileLevy



Category: Extreme Championship Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Addiction recovery, Drug Abuse, F/M, Raven helps an addict, Raven is a saint, beulah tries to steal raven, child abuse/rape, huge angst, i have no idea at this point, past csa mention, this is fucking heavy and i have no excuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23618284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaileLevy/pseuds/RaileLevy
Summary: Scott Levy gets more than he bargained for when he comes across a homeless girl one day, and then saves her the same night. He takes on a challenge, one that will be the most difficult he has ever faced.
Relationships: Raven/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	1. Evil Angel

With a sniff and a yawn, Raile awoke from her position against the brick of the building she'd fallen asleep next to. The rain had stopped and thankfully she still had a couple of dollars in her pocket. She threw the bottle she'd been holding, hearing it smash satisfyingly off the brick, and stood up to wipe off her hands and pull her jacket tighter around her. She made her way to a local marketplace, ripping off a sandwich but using her money to buy a coffee. She sipped at it and slipped out the front door where she leaned against a wall and decided to watch the passersby. About twenty minutes later she saw a man wearing an expensive leather jacket, carrying a bag of food. Her stomach growled, and she looked down at the sandwich until a set of boots impeded her circle of vision. Looking up, Raile was shocked to see the same man.  
"Here," he told her. "You look hungry, and I saw you when you walked in. Also paid for the sandwich you took."  
Her eyes widened.  
"No, I-"  
"Don't try to deny it. The owner saw you, and you're lucky you disappeared before he could press charges," he shrugged. "Although, I don't think standing near the building is gonna help you there."  
He pushed the food into her hands and gave her a ten dollar bill.  
"You shouldn't be out here. Bad things can happen," he told her before walking off.  
Raile looked at him, but he'd already started to walk off before she could find her voice, and soon he was lost in the throng of people.

Her vision was fuzzy and she couldn't breathe. It felt like there was ice in her veins and she couldn't even enjoy her high properly.  
She stumbled around, following the lights of a bar, and fell against the outside wall.  
"Hey sweetheart, you don't look so good," a voice said near her as a pair of hands helped her up. "How bout I take you back to my place and get you right?" She could hear the grease dripping off his tone and struggled a bit, trying to get free.  
"Hey, let her go, man," another voice said, dragging the grease and the hands away from her. "She looks fucked up, what the hell are you thinking?"  
"Ain't none of your business," the other hissed. A violent crash came soon after and another pair of arms circled her. She looked down to see the familiar boots from earlier in the afternoon.  
"Help," she whimpered. "I'm gonna die."  
"You're not gonna die," he said softly, picking her up and carrying her to his car. "You're gonna be alright, honey. What's your name?"  
"Raile," she gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head as she fell unconscious.

Scott swore under his breath as he laid her in the backseat of his car, making sure she was comfortable. The back of his neck tingled and he whipped around just in time to see the man he had thrown to the ground about to stab him. With a snarl, he grabbed the guy and slammed his head into the door, taking care to smash him with it while closing it to protect the girl.  
There was blood on his boots that the rain washed away. He glared at the unconscious man before walking to the driver's side, opening the door and taking one look back to make sure the girl -Raile- was safe. She was still unconscious, and he could see she was seizing badly.  
"Fuck," he swore as he held her upright and tried to keep her from biting her tongue, calling 911. He wasn't going to be able to get her to the hospital in time.

Raile awoke to the sound of a machine beeping and something obstructing her airway. Immediately, she began to panic and tears welled up in her eyes as she began to try and fight her way into a sitting position.  
A hand grabbed hers and she turned, wide-eyed, to see a curly-haired man standing next to her.  
"Relax," he said quietly. "They had to pump your stomach and give you a sedative. You're at Dierks County Hospital."  
She whimpered around the tube and squeezed his hand, and he rubbed a thumb over her knuckles.  
"Name's Scott. You were at the bar I was coming out of and some guy tried to pick you up. I beat him up and called 911 after you passed out and started having a seizure. You're okay, Raile."

Raile yanked her hand from his grip as he said her name. How did he know who she was? He saw the look in her eyes change and looked at the clipboard on the door.  
"I didn't know your last name, so they just called you Raile Doe. You told me your name before you passed out."  
He --Scott, her brain reminded her, looked back to her and waited.  
"Can you write things down? You can't talk until they take that thing out, but maybe you can tell me what happened?"  
She nodded slowly and he got her another clipboard and a pen.  
"What were you doing at the bar?", he asked, handing it to her. Raile took it, writing slowly, her eyes downcast.  
I went to score some coke. I did it, and it wasn't coke.  
Scott's eyes widened and he looked at her, pity and understanding plain to see in his eyes. It hurt to see, so she closed her eyes and looked away. She didn't need pity, or sympathy, or even caring. It was useless to her.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.  
"Where are you gonna go when they let you go, Raile?"  
She shrugged, still avoiding his gaze, and he growled.  
"Look at me," he said, his voice low. "Right now."  
That startled her and she looked back to him, her eyes wide and watery.  
"I'm not going to yell at you," he told her. "But if you think I'm just gonna let them drop you on the streets again to get high, you're wrong. You could die next time, girl, don't you realize that?"  
He reached for her hand again and she let him take it, he rubbed his thumb over the back.  
"Stay with me. You'll be safer than you would on the street. I can help you get clean," he offered, and her eyes darkened as if a door closed in their depths. He saw her reaction and pushed harder.  
"You're going to die if you use again. Do you want that?"  
Raile yanked her hand away, fighting to pull out the tube, and the monitors began to go off again. He sat back in his chair as the nurses came in and removed the tube, watching Raile glare at them until they left again. As the door shut, she pinned him with a look so desperate and longing that it hurt, a physical ache in his chest.  
"Yes," she croaked quietly, tears coming to her eyes again. "I want to die.


	2. Life Starts Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raile and Raven have a talk, Raven proposes an idea.

Scott was stunned by what he had just heard. How bad were things with this young woman's life that she felt she had no choice but to kill herself? And with drugs no less?  
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "But I can't let you do that to yourself."  
"You don't even know me," Raile snapped, though it lost most of its heat due to being rough and weak. "What gives you the right to make decisions for me?"  
"Well," he said as he leaned back in the chair with his hands folded, "considering I'm the one that found you and brought you here, I feel somewhat responsible for your well-being. And with what you just told me, I can't let you leave until you get help."  
Raile was angry, and also shocked at his words. Nobody had ever cared about her before, and this man was a complete stranger. He had no right to waltz in here and force her to do anything.  
"And if I don't? If I tell the docs I'm not gonna go to rehab or whatever the fuck they want?"  
"Then I'll follow you. I'll call the police and tell them you're a danger to yourself," he replied bluntly. "I'm doing this for your own good."  
"Why do you care?! It's none of your fucking business!", she hissed at him, truly pissed off now. "I don't even know you! You have no right to keep me trapped here!"  
"I saved your life tonight, girl," he said in a fierce whisper. "I am not going to walk away and let you continue to ruin yourself. You have no idea what you could do if you just got off the shit and tried to fix yourself, instead of wallowing in whatever darkness is in your head. And yes," he growled as he narrowed his eyes, "there is darkness in your head. I can see it in your eyes."  
She slumped back against the bed, looking away from him.  
"So what? I'm fucked up in the head," she shrugged, though he saw it for what it was. Aloofness, there to hide the fear that was causing her hands to tremble. "Everyone's a little fucked, alright? There's nothing special about me."  
"That may be true, but I'm not about to walk away from someone clearly in need of help. So either you tell them you need it, or I will. I'll put myself in charge of your well-being if I need to."  
Raile looked up at him and sniffled, clenching her hands under the bedsheet.  
"Why?", she asked in a small voice.  
"Because nobody else has," he shrugged. "Whoever was supposed to take care of you completely failed at their job, so now I'm going to. It's what you need."  
"And if I tell you to fuck off?"  
"Then I'll go. But Raile, you're going to die. I know you want to, but killing yourself with an overdose is one of the worst things to do. I know, I've had friends die from this shit. And I'll be damned if I watch you do it too. I see a lot of potential in you that nobody else has ever cultivated. That's a failure in my eyes, and I promise you, I'm gonna do my best to rectify it."  
She sighed and rubbed a hand over her face, exhausted.  
"So what, am I just supposed to come live with a total stranger? I don't know if this just escaped your memory, but I don't fucking know you," she spat, folding her arms. "You could plan to sell me to some trafficking ring, or to your dealer."  
"That's happened before, hasn't it?", he said in a gentle tone, and she snarled.  
"Stop trying to get in my fucking head! I'm not gonna tell you a god damn thing, so just shut up and get me out of here!"  
"I'll only do that if you make a deal."  
Her blood ran cold, and she almost laughed. Nothing comes without a price. You've forgotten that, her mind said. Of course.  
Raile took a deep breath and forced her fears into the back of her mind. Her eyes became cold and hard, nearly black as she let out the breath she was holding and looked at him.  
"What do you want?"  
Scott raised an eyebrow at the complete change in her demeanor, but told himself that it was something he would work on with her.  
"Well, I want you to get better. So, in exchange for getting you out of here, where you clearly hate being, you'll come live with me. I'll keep an eye on you every single day. You'll come to work with me if I need to go, and in return, I'll help you work through the problems you have. I won't hurt or abuse you, but I also won't allow you to relapse. I will take complete control of your life, but it will be a partnership. We talk about things before making decisions."  
Raile's jaw dropped and she stared at him. Was this guy for real? He wanted total control over her and just expected her to go along with it?  
"Go fuck yourself," she replied evenly, lifting her chin. "I'm not giving you control of my life."  
Sighing, he wiped his hands on his pants and stood up.  
"Then I guess we have nothing more to talk about. I'll let the doctors know to prepare a bed for you in their mental health facility. I'm sorry we had to meet like this, Raile," he said as he turned to leave.  
"Wait!", she said, panicked. "Wait, I don't want to go back to a mental ward! I'll do it, whatever you want," she begged. "Just don't send me back there."  
It hurt him a little that he'd had to resort to these drastic methods, but he wasn't going to let her kill herself. Scott turned back to her and folded his arms.  
"I want your word that you'll at least try to listen to me and let me help you. And in return, I'll give you mine that I'll never harm you or let harm come to you."  
"I swear," she gulped. "I swear that I'll try to let you help me. I give you my word."  
He reached a hand out and she took it, biting her lip as he looked at her seriously.  
"I give you my word that I won't harm you or let harm come to you," he said softly. "I also give you my word that I will take care of you to the best of my ability, and that if in six months I've failed to help you, you're free to leave. Is that alright?"  
Six months?! He expects me to stick around for six months?, she thought angrily, but nodded her head.  
"'S fine to me. But I don't want to be a prisoner. I want to be able to do as I please."  
Scott chuckled and smirked at her.  
"We'll discuss that."


	3. My Curse

A day after her week in the hospital, Raile was in the passenger seat of an old truck with her knees under her chin, staring out the window. She knew she was taking a risk, going off with a virtual stranger, but Scott had visited her every day for the week she had stayed, and they had talked quite a bit. He told her a few things about his life, but nothing too personal yet. She, in return, had told him that when she was little she had wanted to be a musician, and then when she got older and was allowed to watch whatever she pleased, she fell in love with the business of wrestling.

"I can't believe I didn't recognize you at first," she admitted as she turned to him. "You'd think with me wanting to break into the business I'd have remembered who you are, Emo Bird."

Scott rolled his eyes playfully and laughed at her.

"I'm sort of glad you didn't. I'd never have gotten to know you so far otherwise. You would've been starstruck."

"I wouldn't have been starstruck, I would've just asked you to sign my bag and been done with it," she laughed at him. "Do you still keep in contact with the ECW crowd?"

"ECW ain't dead, Blondie, I still work there," he told her. "Matter of fact, I have to go into work tomorrow, and well I can't exactly leave you alone right now. So you'll be coming with me."

She raised an eyebrow at him and set her legs down, sort of shocked at the pronouncement.

"Are you serious? You want me to come?"

"Like I said, I don't want to leave you alone. So you're coming with me to work in order for me to keep an eye on you."

"That's, actually really awesome. I'll do my best to stay out of trouble, I promise. I'd really like to take a peek around the wrestling scene. Maybe even break into the business."

"Well," he offered, "if you can get clean and train, and prove to me that I can trust you, then I will talk to Paul about it. But you really need to work on it, alright?"

"I promise I will. I'll work on it right now," she told him excitedly. "What do I need to do?"

"Since the shit is out of your system for the most part, you just need to work on dealing with whatever caused you to start using. Maybe go to a therapy group, or an NA meeting. Talk to someone about why you started, what led up to it."

Her face fell and she paled slightly, shaking her head.

"Can't I do it without talking? I don't need to talk to anyone," she denied. "I can get over this."

"Not without talking you can't. Otherwise if something causes you to relapse, you're going to, and then what will you do?"

"I'm not going to relapse. I can do this," she said, her hands starting to shake. Her mouth was dry, and she licked her lips. "Can we stop for a soda?"

"We're almost to my place, Raile. I'll get you something then. Are you alright?"

"Fine," she lied. "Just thirsty and tired, that's all. Um, I don't have a lot of stuff, just this backpack. So as far as like, clothes and stuff, I need to wash them."

"That's fine. You can borrow some of my stuff too, if you need. I have plenty."

"Thank you. Do you think I could get a shower too? I mean I had one at the hospital but that was like a couple days ago, and if I'm gonna be meeting the ECW crowd I'd rather make a good impression," she chuckled. He grinned at her and shrugged.

"Course you can have a shower. I'm not gonna force you to walk around smelly, especially to meet my friends. That's just gross, and pretty neglectful, and would go against our deal," he reminded her. "I promised to take care of you and not hurt or harm you. Making sure you're clean falls under the first category."

Raile nodded, even though she still didn't understand why he was doing this for her. But she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, and she also wasn't about to insult him by saying he didn't need to take care of her. Besides, it felt nice to have someone care after being on her own for so long and having to look after herself.

They pulled up to the apartment that Scott stayed at when work was in his hometown and he opened the door for her, grabbing his things and his keys as he waited for her.

"Are you hungry? You're shaking pretty badly, kid," he told her as he watched her carefully. She fought hard to still her trembling limbs and shook her head.

"No, I'm alright. It's just residual. Withdrawals and shit, you know? I get the shakes if I don't do it after a while. But I'll be fine," she reassured him. "I am pretty hungry though, now that you mention it."

"Well here's forty bucks," he said as he counted it out for her and handed it over. "I'm gonna grab a shower first if that's alright, and you order us something to eat. Whatever you want is fine."

Raile nodded and set her backpack down, sitting on the couch and looking around at the room. She picked up the phone and found the number of a local sandwich shop on a menu stuck to the fridge, ordering them each a roast beef sandwich, fries, and a soda. Once that was done, she turned on the little television and fell into a rabbit hole of a crime documentary while she waited. Twenty minutes later, Scott was dressed and had his hair done, taking a seat next to her on the couch.

"You get dinner?"

"Isn't here yet," she told him as she kept her eyes on the show. "My turn for the shower?"

"Yeah go ahead. I'll give the money to them if they come, take your time. We have two hours before I need to head out."

"Thanks," she said as she stood up. "Um, I don't have anything to wear..."

"Wear something of mine then, and we'll get you new stuff when we head out on vacation in a couple of days. I typically ask for one when the show comes to town, just so I can take a couple days off without paying for a motel."

Shrugging, she dug through his bag and pulled out a tank top and a pair of athletic shorts, throwing them over her shoulder with the towel before heading into the bathroom. Once the door was shut, she stripped out of her clothes and turned the water as hot as it could go. She scrubbed at herself furiously to get rid of the dirt around her neck, wrists, and hands. After ten minutes of scrubbing she was finally clean, and decided to just luxuriate in the feeling of hot water and soap. She washed her hair three times before shutting the water off and stepping out, pausing to look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes had dark circles underneath from the lack of sleep that even a few days' rest couldn't make up for, and their dark green color was slightly clouded due to the withdrawal, but it was better than the red, watery alternative. Raile couldn't believe that she actually looked much better. Grabbing the brush that Scott had left behind, she worked out the tangles in her messy blonde hair and managed to smooth it into submission, falling down her back.

She made her way back into the living room, outfitted in an old merch shirt and his black shorts with her bangs falling into her eyes.

"Thanks for that," she said to him as she sat down in the loveseat and turned her eyes to the television. "It's been so long since I was really able to get myself clean."

"Don't worry about it," he said as he lifted the soda to his lips. "The food got here while you were in there. Yours is on the counter. How'd you know I liked roast beef?"

"Lucky guess," she grinned. "I like it too, I figured it would be a good pick considering I didn't really know too much else on the menu."

"Well it's delicious," he grinned back at her. "Thank you."

Raile got up and walked into the kitchen to get her food, taking a large bite of the sandwich and letting out a soft moan as the flavor and juices of the beef hit her tongue.

"You might want to take that to go, girl," Scott said as he stood up and grabbed his gear bag. "We gotta head into work. Just stick by me while we're there, alright? I don't want you to run into anyone else just yet."

"Why not?", she asked as she wrapped her sandwich and put it in her bag. "You think they'll try to mess me up? Get me alone?"

"I think they'll try to make you go back to the hospital and then our deal would be null and void, wouldn't it?", he said seriously. "The locker room is full of drugs, and booze, and chaos. You need to stay as far away from that as possible, and that means you stick by me and do exactly as I tell you, understand?"

His tone caused something in her body to coil and she cleared her throat, taking a sip of her soda to quench her thirst.

"Yeah, I got you," she replied evenly, though there was a sudden bloom of nervousness in her belly. "Do...do you really think someone would do that?"

"Best not to take the chance, isn't it?", he said as he walked her to the front door. "Just stay with me, Raile. I mean it."

"I know, and I will."

They walked into the arena and she was immediately enthralled. The sounds, the sights, the smell of alcohol and chaos in the air as the Sandman walked by and gave her a glance. Giddy, she grinned up at him as they passed, and he chuckled at her.

"Wow, Scott, didn't realize it was bring your puppy to work day," he teased. "Who's this?"

"A friend of mine," Scott said as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Her name isn't important, all that matters is that she's here with me, got it?"

There was no mistaking the underlying threat in his words, the double meaning: touch her, and you die. It gave Raile that thrill again and she caught her lip between her teeth, trying to suppress the shudder of excitement that wracked her body.

She began to tell the man her name when a hand tightened on her shoulder and she caught Scott's eye. The warning was clear, and she looked away from the both of them and just watched everyone walk around. She ignored the topic of conversation until a snarl and the painful grip on her shoulder caught her attention.

"I don't need you to play babysitter, and I don't want you anywhere near her," Scott growled angrily. Sandman put his hands up in surrender and stepped away from the pair.

"Okay, okay. I get it, keep away from your new squeeze."

"I'm not-"

"She's not my new squeeze, you idiot. I'm...it's personal," he muttered. "And none of your fuckin' business, none of anybody's business around here, got it?"

He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

"Yeah man, I got it. Stay away from your new...friend," Sandman said before clapping him on the back. "Paul says you have a match tonight, first thing."

Scott looked over at Raile and sighed, taking off his flannel and tying it around her waist.

"Looks like you get to be on camera tonight. Here, wear a hoodie," he muttered as he handed her one out of his bag. "Keep the hood up, and...fuck, gonna need to hide your face too."

"I have this," she said as she pulled a bandana out of her bag. "I'll just tie this around my face and it'll be fine."

He chuckled and tied the bandana over her face before putting the hood up.

"There you go. Now nobody will see you," he grinned, only seeing her eyes. The clarity of the green shade startled him, and it was a couple of fleeting moments before he could blink and look away.

"Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

The roar of a crowd filled her senses, and she looked at him worriedly. Was she really about to do this? All she had to do was sit at ringside, keep quiet, and watch, but she was still a victim to a roiling feeling in her stomach. It was a hard-fought battle, and in the end Scott came out victorious, even if he was covered in blood as he walked up to her.

Though her face was covered, she beamed at him with her eyes and he felt like a man who had just fought for the heart of his intended. Grinning at her, he offered a hand to help her stand up and she laughed as she took it.

"This, this is definitely something I want to do," she told him. "Teach me?"

"Yeah," he said with a panting breath. "I can do that. I'll definitely do that. It'll be part of our deal."

She shook her head, and taking a risk, pulled down the hood and tore away the bandana.

"Then I'll do whatever you ask, follow wherever you go. I can feel that I finally have a purpose, that I know what I want to do with myself," she admitted to him happily. "If I have that, I don't even think I'll be worried about detox."

He raised an eyebrow at her and grabbed her hand, pulling her to the back, to the confusion and chaos of the crowd that had just seen an unnamed woman and their star exchanging words. Questions were definitely going through their minds about what had just transpired, and he had neither the time nor the patience to try and make her dive headfirst into that part of his life. Steps, careful steps had to be taken before he could introduce her to wrestling.

They were in his truck again, and she was looking over at him with her feet on the dashboard and a nervous, yet eager expression.

"You really think I can do this?"

"I think that if you really put your mind to it, you'll be able to do it, yeah," he told her seriously. "And you'll have me. It's easier to do if you don't do it alone. I speak from experience, and let me tell you, getting clean by yourself doesn't always work. For some people it can, but for those of us that get too deep in our own head? It's a fucking nightmare."  
"I never really wanted to become an addict," she admitted quietly. "I just couldn't deal with all the shit, and it became so much easier to just snort a line and forget all the fucked up things that I was running from."  
He pulled over and looked at her, his expression soft and non-judgemental.  
"Like what?"  
She looked out the window and shook her head, not wanting to admit anything and risk him leaving her once he found out how broken she was.  
"It's not important," she lied. "Really, I can deal. I can handle this."  
"Raile, it'll be easier to get through this if you examine the reasons you started using in the first place. I'm not going to judge you for your past, if that's what you're so afraid of."

"It really doesn't matter," she repeated. "I can handle it. You don't need to worry."  
He sighed and looked out the windshield, running a hand over his hair.  
"Fine. Don't tell me. But if you won't tell me, you'll need to tell someone. Should I be considering therapists for you?"  
That was the last thing she wanted, and she folded her arms and kicked at the floor of the car.  
"I don't need a fuckin' shrink. I don't need to talk to anyone, alright? I don't. It's completely unnecessary."  
"No, what's unnecessary is all this cloak and dagger bullshit," he said, finally getting fed up. "I understand you've been through shit, and you don't want people to know, but if this is going to work, Raile, you need to be honest with me. You need to trust me."  
A dark laugh fell out of her mouth and she closed her eyes tightly against the sudden swell of tears.  
"I can't even fucking trust myself, man. How the fuck am I supposed to trust you? How am I supposed to get through this when bringing up all that old shit is going to kill me? Quite literally. Because right now, just thinking about it, I want to do another fucking bag and pray it kills me. I lied that night, Scott," she told him with anger tingeing her voice as she looked him in the eye. "I wanted death. I was ready to go. But then you came out of the shadows like some dark harbinger of justice and I couldn't do a goddamn thing! What am I supposed to do now?"  
"What we agreed to," he said calmly, though inside he was angry and sad. "Let me help you through this."  
"And when you decide I'm a goddamned lost cause and you can't be bothered anymore? What then? Because when you go, you take the last little bit of resolve I have left. How can I begin to try when it involves all this shit?"  
"Because if you don't, then there's no point in continuing," he sighed. "I can't help you if you can't learn to trust me and confide in me. I can't. There's no point in me doing any of this if you can't also help yourself and confront whatever the fuck it is that got you here."  
The thought of not being able to talk to him and see him laugh, see him smile as he worked, tore her up inside, and the anger swelled to a boiling point.  
"I was abused. Alright? I was a goddamned child the first time I got forcibly taught what it means to have sex. I was beaten, and raped, and neglected. Then I was forced to live on the streets when my last family decided I wasn't worth the trouble of dealing with. I never got any fucking help for any of it. Wouldn't you start using too?", she spat at him, angry that he was forcing this out of her. Though inside, deep inside, some part of her felt relief that she had finally gotten it off her chest until she looked at his expression.  
Scott looked heartbroken, sick, and furious at the same time.


End file.
